


Temper

by Dameceles



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Seisen no Keifu | Fire Emblem: Genealogy of the Holy War
Genre: Dysfunctional Relationships, Family, Gen, Parent-Child Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-18
Updated: 2015-06-18
Packaged: 2018-04-05 00:25:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4158615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dameceles/pseuds/Dameceles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur has a tantrum, Tiltyu finds it's deserved.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Temper

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: implications of depression and whatever the heck you'd call Forsetti!Lewyn

Inside the Silessean palace a child was crying. His wails echoed against the stone pillars and hardwood walls, punctuated by sharp smacks of his shining shoes hitting the equally polished floors. The little body writhed dramatically, and his small arms would be thrown out to slap if anyone dared get close.

It was not the first time Silesse's child prince had a tantrum. An event that was always as thunderous as Arthur's little lungs and stomping feet could make them. After the first few incidents, the servants had learned it was best to simply ride the episodes out. But this particular tantrum was going on far longer than any that had come before.

The whispers had begun, as had the complaints from guests in the palace. However, not everyone would simply stand idly by.

"Arthur Tor Silesse!" A pale haired woman shouted over the tantrum as she came onto the scene, "Just what do you think you're doing?"

The wails immediately ceased, and the boy sat up nonchalantly, scrubbing the tears from his face. "...nothin'..." Arthur muttered, refusing to meet his mother's eye.

"Nothing, huh?" Tiltyu quipped, crouching down to her son's level. Not a simple feat with her belly big and rounded with an unborn child, but the thunder mage managed to find her balance. "I'm pretty sure I, and everyone inside the palace including granny Rahna, heard you throwing a fit. Wanna tell me why?"

Big green eyes glanced up at her face, still watery from crying, but quickly looked away. She tutted, "If you had a good reason, you won't get in trouble. So wanna share, or is it a secret worth a sit in the corner?" 

The pause was long enough Tiltyu almost motioned for a servant to fetch a chair, but finally her small son heaved a big sigh. 

"...Da won't play with me," Arthur whispered. His little face scrunched up with both frustration and sadness, tears gathering on pale eyelashes. 

"Oh..." Tiltyu trailed off and gave a sigh of her own, unsure how to answer.

Lewyn had been different since he'd arrived back in Silesse, several worrying months after the battle of Belhalla. While she knew Arthur couldn't possibly remember Lewyn from the time of his birth, but she did. During that year in Sailane and the weeks following Arthur's birth, Lewyn had gone through trials but had always remained good-humored and personable. One of Tiltyu's favorite things about Lewyn was how freely he would give himself to laughter if the opportunity arose- and how he'd enjoyed doing the same for their baby boy. Tickling sensitive bellies and striking faces funnier than a dignified prince could be deigned to make. They'd all laughed together as a new family, even though the future was uncertain, there'd been warmth.

But now, with her father dead and Sigurd's army gone, Lewyn seemed to be a countless leagues away even when sitting in the same room. She'd caught him staring off into nothing more times than any resemblance of a teasing glint had surfaced in his gaze. She'd goaded him into talking regularly, but their conversations didn't contain the same playful air as they once had and he'd outright refused to tell her what had happened to him at Barharra or where he'd been afterwards. 

The first time she'd heard that refusal, blunt and uncaring of how she'd worried herself sick over him in his absence, it'd made her weep. Right in front of Lewyn she'd let all her frustrations pour out with her tears, anger mixing with grief and the fresh hurt into a bitter cocktail. But he hadn't turned and left, no, in that moment her erstwhile husband had actually comforted her. Tiltyu rested a hand on her pregnant belly, her mind skipping over the details in just how intimately that comforting had ended.

Instead she focused on the memories of strange behavior. How there were times, sometimes weeks long, where Lewyn seemed to vanish from the palace before reappearing without any excuse or explanation. There were also many moments he was outright cold, and would brush people off no matter if they were his mother, his childhood friend, or his wife. Or apparently, his son.

Where once Lewyn refusing to play with his own child might've shocked her, now Tiltyu felt resigned. Unlike her son, she didn't even feel enough spark to want to stamp and cry at the unfairness of it all. The thunder mage likely wouldn't have left the comfort of her bed if Arthur's unceasing wails hadn't drawn her out from beneath the blankets. But she couldn't give into the urge to simply lie down and curl into herself, not when her little boy had plenty of reason to be upset.

Tiltyu slowly drew her son into a hug, allowing him momentary space when he made to pull away but ultimately coaxing him to rest his downy head against her breast. "Daddy's not feeling well these days, it makes him cranky." She tried to explain in a way he might understand, when even she didn't truly know why her husband had come home so changed. "I'm sorry he made you sad."

Arthur sniffled loudly at the apology, but nodded rather than falling into another tantrum. Wrapping his small arms around her, as much as he could reach with her belly big with child, the boy returned the embrace. "Granny taught me checkers," he murmured against her, "I wanted to show Da..."

Tiltyu stroked a hand over her son's unruly hair, trying to pet the wayward strands into place. But his pale hair was far too fine and seemed to stir with any shift in the air, so she settled into simply stroking. This calmed the both, and once Arthur's breathing evened out the thunder mage spoke, "If you still want to play the game, why not ask Ferry's children? I'm sure they'll play with you."

Arthur turned his face up and he looked at his mother like she was simple, "Fee's a baby. She can't play."

Tiltyu laughed at that, the emotion and sounds catching her off guard though it was sort lived. The smile stayed on her lips as she asked, "What about Ced?"

Arthur's expression transformed into a sulk. "...he beat me last time. Granny says I need practice." 

Tiltyu chuckled at his honest frustration, and felt more energized than she had been all month. "Tell you what, how about I have the kitchens prepare some tea and cookies for us to eat while I play a game of checkers with you. How's that sound, little man?"

Arthur loudly voiced his approval for this plan before bounding out of her arms and rushing off to find the gameboard. With a genuine smile Tiltyu watched his go, then achingly rose to stand. She followed after her young son, trying to hold onto that moment of warmth. Instead of wondering when Lewyn would disappear and not return.

**Author's Note:**

> Main pair of Tiltyu/Lewyn, a kind of an unsettling look at that period in time where Forsetti!Lewyn lived with his family before Silesse was invaded and Tiltyu hauled off to Freege. 
> 
> Personally I headcanon that as Lewyn's wife Tiltyu would've lived together with Rahna and Ferry's family in the palace, and only after the invasion was Arthur taken to a backwoods village to be raised in hiding. But I'll show more on that in other fic.
> 
> Arthur's full name I totally made up, inspired by the canon examples of Seliph Baldos Chalphy and Leif Faris Claus. Honestly it could easily changed depending on his father, here's some predestined examples: "Arthur Tor Vethlomer", "Arthur Tor Dozel", "Arthur Tor Edda", and even the unlanded version "Arthur Tor Freege". Not supposed to be taken seriously, just a bit of fun for me.


End file.
